


like the warmth of the sun

by QueenHarleyQuinn



Series: My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars [1]
Category: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
Genre: (not very descriptive but still very loving and great sex lmao), Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fix-It, Fluff, Love, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23624857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenHarleyQuinn/pseuds/QueenHarleyQuinn
Summary: “The hell are you thinking so much about?” Cliff asks, sun peeking through their curtains, birds chirping outside. It’s nearly Spring, not that it matters much in L.A. They’re laying in bed now, legs tangled together.(Rick has early morning thoughts about how he doesn't deserve this but how lucky he is to have it anyway. Post movie)
Relationships: Cliff Booth/Rick Dalton
Series: My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747462
Comments: 14
Kudos: 99





	like the warmth of the sun

**Author's Note:**

> 'The warmth of your love  
> Is like the warmth of the sun  
> And this will be our year  
> Took a long time to come'
> 
> This Will Be Our Year by The Zombies

Rick’s pretty sure he’s never done anything good in his life. Ever. Except, maybe, fighting back against those hippie fucks. But that was more an act of being fed up than it was an act of valor. It was a chance for him to do more than sit around and feel sorry for himself. Less than an act of penance. Closer to self preservation.

Nope. Not one good thing. Not once.

That’s why he’s sure he shouldn’t be allowed this. The goodness of waking up and knowing Cliff’s there, on the other side of the mattress. Brandy wedged somewhere by their feet or on watch by the door.

His bed feels  _ warmer _ with Cliff in it. It feels golden and sunbaked. It’s not just Cliff’s body heat, it’s  _ him _ . It’s his tan arms and blonde hair and the fact that Rick knows they’re unstoppable together.

And, because he’s Rick, the moment he allows himself to bask in that warmth turns into a moment mourning the fact that they haven’t been doing this all along. They deprived themselves for ten years, and for what? Because of society and Hollywood and fame? They could have been grabbing each other and laughing and smiling for ten years. Sometimes Rick thinks he would have liked that more than any Oscar. 

Not that he has an Oscar. Or will be getting an Oscar any time soon. But still, it’s the principle of the thing.

Instead of being together outright they decided to go on the longest relationship detour in the world.

Bumpy careers. Two failed marriages. Italy.

Three dead hippies.

It all led to this, eventually. Regardless of if Rick deserved it. It led to Cliff pulling him by his belt loops and kissing him like he was trying to breathe life into Rick. Powerful and all consuming. In those moments Rick can hardly think beyond  _ yes _ and  _ more _ .

When Cliff grabs him by the ass and drags him to the bed and absolutely claims him; teeth on Rick’s collar, rough hands squeezing his thighs. Tears well in Rick’s eyes, each time, because it’s just so much and it’s so good and it’s  _ his _ .

Theirs.

Isn’t that the craziest part? That this relationship is a shared thing. Proof that Cliff wants him, despite it all. He’s experienced Rick’s meltdowns and hangovers and vacillating self worth and decided, ‘yeah, that’s the one for me’. 

Rick Fucking Dalton.

Cliff Goddamn Booth.

“The hell are you thinking so much about?” Cliff asks, sun peeking through their curtains, birds chirping outside. It’s nearly Spring, not that it matters much in L.A. They’re laying in bed now, legs tangled together.

That’s something you’d probably never guess about Cliff unless you slept with him; he likes contact. He’s the kind of guy who slides his hands into your back pocket when he kisses you. He’s the kind of guy who keeps a hand on your face when he fucks you.

He touches Rick a lot, which is good since Rick likes being touched.

“You plannin’ on answering me?”

Rick finally looks over at him, peeling his eyes away from the void of the yellowish ceiling. “Nothing. Thinkin’ about a-a-a script I gotta r-read before tomorrow.”

Cliff lifts his brows before maneuvering around and over Rick, “Really?” He’s hovering over Rick, brushing up against him stomach to stomach. Hip to hip. 

Rick’s half-hard already, just from that. Just from grinding up against Cliff lazily, skin to skin. “N-no,” He breathes. 

With a grin Cliff moves a hand down Rick’s side. Slowly, trailing from his chest and causing Rick to shiver. He shakes his head, “Nah, I didn’t think so.”

Rick stares up at Cliff, the way the sun kisses his cheek and the tip of his nose, “Just, just thinking about how l-lucky I am.”

Some of that  _ devil may care _ levity seeps away for a second. Rick gets a glimpse at something a little more serious and intimate. Eyes that say,  _ I’m lucky too _ .

But the other thing about Cliff is that he’s a man of action, not words. So he spends the rest of the morning figuring how to turn Rick’s body into a love letter. How to kiss and stroke and bite in all the right ways, to get every feeling he’s ever had crammed into Rick. Rick’s the mouthy one, the one scrabbling at Cliff’s back, crying out, “Fuck, I love you! God, fuck, you’re so good, mmhh love you!”

Not exactly poetry. Cliff likes it that way. They both do.

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed something short and warm, you know? Stay well <3


End file.
